ROAD AND RAIL; Hey, Look Our Toll Plaza Over

NOT often does a state get a second chance to make a first impression.

When state transportation leaders decided that gridlock relief was finally due at Interchange 1, the southernmost toll plaza of the New Jersey Turnpike near this town where the Garden State begins, they also saw a chance to dress up the introduction. After four years of construction, a new $48 million plaza opened last month. Toll booths wrought of limestone, steel and panes of glass tinted sea-foam green and a connecting bridge are intended to evoke New Jersey's high-technology side, while an 81-foot tower resembling a lighthouse between the northbound and southbound lanes at the toll plaza is a nod to New Jersey's surf-and-sandiness.

Never mind that the rusting old plaza will remain standing a few more months or that smoking power and chemical plants along the Delaware River are still part of every driver's vista. Officials hope that this remade gateway will lift the low-brow image of the toll road while also easing congestion.

''We wanted to build something that would be impressive enough to change that perception that New Jerseyans and most other people have of New Jersey and the turnpike,'' said Jack Lettiere, the state transportation commissioner. ''It can in and of itself be not only an efficient highway but also be a pleasurable experience.''

That said, practical matters were the driving force behind the makeover. About 45,000 vehicles pass through the interchange each day, often becoming caught in snarls, particularly on holidays, when 20-mile backups have been common, on to the Delaware Memorial Bridge and beyond. The new configuration, just over a mile north of the old, has 23 lanes, compared with 15 before, and 4 of them are new Express E-ZPass lanes that allow drivers to zoom through at 55 miles per hour instead of slowing to 15.

That focus on efficiency is much in keeping with the spirit in which the turnpike was built. In contrast to meandering toll roads in other states, New Jersey's turnpike takes a direct line as it moves people and cargo between New York and Philadelphia.

When the turnpike opened in 1951, it featured engineering firsts, including steel guardrails and wide medians and shoulders along the entire 148-mile length of the road to prevent crossover and run-off-the-road crashes, and 24-inch-tall numbers to mark approaching exits.

''There were a lot of innovations during the construction, and it continues to be a road of innovations today,'' said Kevin Sylvester, a civil engineer with the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey. He nominated the turnpike for designation as a ''New Jersey Historic Civil Engineering Landmark,'' bestowed by the state chapter of the American Society of Civil Engineers in 2002.

Such recognition has been largely lost on the general populace, however, as tons of heavy industry and oil refineries along miles of the roadway lent it an unsavory reputation over the years. The turnpike became an emblem of the self-deprecating sensibility of a state existing in the shadows of two major metropolitan areas.

''I think the turnpike and all the exits epitomize the kind of people that we are here,'' Joe Piscopo, who wrote a notoriously mocking New Jersey skit for ''Saturday Night Live'' in the early 1980's, said in a recent telephone interview. ''We get no respect; we're always second-class citizens, so we work twice as hard. And we wear it as a badge of honor, it's like, 'You're damn straight that's our garbage-recycling plant.'''

The turnpike is part of the culture, mentioned in song lyrics of Simon and Garfunkel and pictured in the opening credits of ''The Sopranos.'' In fact, it has acquired a kind of reverse chic, much like the state itself, said Michael Aaron Rockland, a professor of American studies at Rutgers University who detailed that culture as co-author of the book ''Looking for America on the New Jersey Turnpike'' (Rutgers University Press, 1989). ''Like it seems like a pretty cool place, even if you do get bumped off,'' he said.

But in recent years, the turnpike authorities have bet millions that looks matter.

In 1999, the turnpike signed a $41 million deal with the Host Marriott Services Corporation (now known as HMS Host) to renovate its rest stops, adding Starbucks and bigger bathrooms and updating the dank décor of the buildings.

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After that, Interchange 1 was given special attention. The idea was to build ''something that looks like it belongs to the future,'' said Martin Santini, president of Ecoplan Architects of Englewood Cliffs, the company that helped design the project. Everything in the design -- from the limestone to the slight S-shaped arrangement of the plaza -- is meant to serve that image, he said.

The 56 toll workers at the plaza are now taking pleasure in air-conditioned booths; padded, swiveling seats instead of stationary metal chairs; and touch-screen technology, which reduces time and paperwork in the toll-taking process.

''It's much easier to work when sweat isn't pouring off of you,'' said Karen White, the plaza supervisor, who has worked at the interchange for more than 20 years. ''And it's nice to have a building that New Jersey and the turnpike can be proud of.''

Outsiders are known to react with praise and shock.

''If they're going to make improvements and make it more attractive,'' Professor Rockland said, ''it's about damn time.''

He added: ''The turnpike is the ultimate utilitarian road, and it was built completely without aesthetics in mind.''

Drivers seem to focus on the swiftness with which they can pass Interchange 1.

''They actually did a good job,'' Cornell Neitzell, 57, of Milford, Pa., said while stopped last month for a bathroom break at a rest area just north of the plaza, on his way home after a vacation in North Carolina. ''You can go through at 60 miles per hour. It doesn't take anything.''

Some balk at the price of that convenience.

''That is way too much,'' Andy Hill, 40, who lives near the plaza, said as he was having his gas tank filled at a station in Deepwater. ''There's got to be a lot of excess there.''

The face-lift may take awhile to smudge the gritty edge from the Garden State's profile. Some residents are not even aware that anything has changed.

A stone's throw from Interchange 1, at a tavern in Deepwater called the Turnpike Inn, the bartender merely gave a glare and a gravelly laugh when asked about New Jersey's newest pride and joy.